


A Hunt's Faith

by BC_Brynn



Series: Trust Your Nose [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ninken | Ninja Dogs, Pack, Summons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-23 07:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BC_Brynn/pseuds/BC_Brynn
Summary: Rikku joins a hunt.Sakumo’s pup is born. Too early. Too weak.





	1. We Will Run

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine Rikku here as about twelve years old.
> 
> Italicised direct speech is spoken in dog language (i.e. growling and barking). Some humans can understand it, but most don’t. For example, Kiba and Naruto mostly understand Akamaru, who doesn’t speak human (although they are by no means fluent).
> 
> Also, Shiryuusu’s direct family grows up bilingual (that is how toddler Annai spoke human).
> 
> (Detailed warnings are in the end note.)

Tenrousei-san’s human partner Sakumo came to personally congratulate Rikku after his Presentation. Rikku had no idea why. It was – nice? But unexpected.

When Sakumo scratched behind Rikku’s ears, Rikku had a revelation.

He stared up at the smiling face, bright eyes, chakra like nothing he had ever felt before; he felt the warm, steady weight of a hand on his head. He wanted this. “Hrrrew?”

“Hello to you, too,” replied the man, and squatted down.

Rikku lowered his head in shame.

“Hey, none of that, kid,” Sakumo said gently, burying both hands in the fur of Rikku’s neck and gently – but without giving Rikku a chance to protest – made him look up. “What is going on? Hey? None of that – chin up. You’re a ninja now.”

“Srrrew,” Rikku managed.

He heard Tenrousei-san behind him – coming up, surveying the situation, sighing. He wanted to lower his head again, but Sakumo’s hold on him was fast. It was all he could do to suppress the whine rising in his chest.

“Rikku started learning late,” explained Tenrousei-san.

Rikku could not look at Sakumo’s face anymore; he had to close his eyes and hope he would survive the humiliation.

“Then he’s a pretty quick learner,” Sakumo said warmly. “I don’t think he’s any older that the other puppies I’ve seen Presented-”

“Not those skills,” Tenrousei-san cut in. “Rikku has trained to fight since he grew his first teeth. But he did not start learning to speak your language until a year or so ago.”

There was no one to teach him. Rikku had asked, but he had nothing to offer in recompense, so he had been turned away time and time again. Without parents or extended family to give him these skills, it would have fallen to his shishou – and Rikku’s shishou herself could not speak the human language.

In the end it was one of the smaller pups that taught him. It was embarrassing, of course, and Rikku had caught a lot of flak for it – so did the other pup, when someone found out he had lived with humans before, ran away from them, and begged Shiryuusu-sama to be allowed to join the Pack.

Rikku didn’t think he would be worth a sacrifice like that to anyone. He was grateful.

“Well, _I_ understand Rikku just fine,” proclaimed Sakumo. One of his hands released Rikku’s neck, stroked his head and back, and then returned to scratch behind his ears again. It was _bliss_.

Tenrousei-san sighed again. “I know that tone of voice. You have already decided, haven’t you? And nothing I say will budge you.”

“I think Rikku would be a wonderful addition to the hunt. Is that something you’d want, sweetheart?”

Rikku opened his eyes and stared at the human, not entirely understanding what was going on.

Tenrousei-san huffed. “Why don’t you give him a season or two more? Rikku’s a good hunter, a very good fighter, but he is not ready for socialising with humans-”

“Pwrrrease?” Rikku blurted before he could think better of it. He immediately wished he could run and hide somewhere, but Sakumo was holding him – and then Sakumo was pulling his closer, until Rikku’s head was buried in Sakumo’s vest, and Rikku could stop wishing for the earth to swallow him.

That wonderful, wonderful hand stroked along his back again and again.

“ _Stubborn cur_ ,” growled Tenrousei-san.

Sakumo just laughed. “Oh, I know that most parents wait longer to get their child a puppy-”

“Your child is not even born yet-”

“But I just have a good feeling about Rikku. He’ll be a fierce guard. Hey, Rikku – you’ll keep my family safe, won’t you?”

Rikku managed not to pull his tail between his legs under the weight of Tenrousei-san’s scowl.

He burrowed closer into Sakumo’s warmth and his odd, human smell.

“Pwrrromise.”

x

Rikku was so much smaller than them. While they could simply look into the cot, Rikku had to stand on his hindlegs and brace himself against the bars surrounding the mattress.

The puppy – or whatever the humans called their newborns – was flagging. It was bluish; it wasn’t breathing enough, and Rikku didn’t like the smell of it. It smelled like blood and sickness. Like dying.

“Sakumo won’t make it in time,” Kajiki spoke quietly, walking into the room to join Ryuukotsu and Rikku on their watch. “They’re still trying to save his mate, but they all smell resigned.”

Rikku barely stifled a whine.

Both Sakumo’s mate _and_ puppy? This couldn’t be happening! This couldn’t-!

Rikku had done everything right. He had been diligent. He had guarded them. He had run fast to alert the healers when Kajiki sent him, mere moments after the mate’s first whimpers. Before she had even awakened.

It was too early. The puppy wasn’t supposed to come for a month yet.

What should Rikku do? How was he meant to avert this disaster? _How had he failed_?!

“ _He must get a name_!” Rikku growled. It was the only – the last – the most desparate – way they could try to help.

Ryuukotsu lowered his head. “Sakumo and his mate had not agreed on one. They wanted to meet the pup first.”

Yes, Rikku was aware of that. Tenrousei-taichou had recounted the tale from the start – about how Sakumo fell over himself to get that woman’s attention, then got it, then messed up with their human courting rituals and _had_ to marry her when she got disinherited. For being with a pup?

Tenrousei-taichou had explained it, but Rikku still didn’t get it. Sakumo and his mate were happy, and healthy, and well. What was the problem?

If nothing else, the enormous stupidity had once again confirmed Shiryuusu-sama’s belief that humans were too dumb to live, and their species only survived because they bred uncontrollably. And even then they needed ninken.

“Sakumo is strong,” said Kajiki. “The pup has inherited his strength. Have faith, Rikku.”

“ _Sakumo trusted us with them_ ,” Rikku snapped, too angry and terrified to care that he was backtalking his superior. “ _This is the_ only _thing that we can do now_ -”

“That’s just a folk tale-”

“ _You just told me I need faith_ ,” Rikku protested. “This _is my faith. He must be named_.”

“Then do it,” Kajiki retorted.

“ _It should be Tenrousei-taich_ -”

“Tenrousei is on the mission with Sakumo.”

Rikku shook his head. “ _I- I can’t. It can’t be me_ -”

“Why?” inquired Ryuukotsu.

“ _He needs strength_!” argued Rikku. Rikku was barely a season past his Presentation. Tenrousei-taichou didn’t even want him in the hunt yet – it was Sakumo that decided Rikku should join them. And even Sakumo had not taken Rikku on a proper mission so far.

Rikku had no strength to speak of. What was there he could lend to the puppy?

The puppy whose lungs seemed to skip every fourth breath? Whose fluttering little heart slowed down and sped up three times in a minute?

“ _Please_ …” Rikku whined. “ _Please, Ryuukotsu_ …”

“I’m two paws in the grave, whelp,” Ryuukotsu grumbled. “Little strength left in these bones. I won’t be here to see him become a ninja, and who’ll take care of him then? Who’ll teach him?” But he seemed convinced enough to join Rikku in looking at Kajiki. “Whelp’s got a point, though.”

Kajiki huffed. “Superstitious fools.”

A medic nin strode into the room then, discarding bloodied gloves as she went; her glare made Kajiki and Ryuukotsu stand aside, and Rikku sink down to all four. Rikku couldn’t make himself move away from the cot, even as the medic nin leaned over it and poured chakra into the tiny body.

Her sigh afterwards spoke as much as her tears did. “This is going to kill Sakumo,” the woman whispered, and then walked out of the room, as if Sakumo’s hunt wasn’t there.

As if they weren’t part of Sakumo’s life. As if they were ‘just’ animals, infecting the human’s supposedly sterile place.

The medic might have cared about Sakumo, but she didn’t _know_ him. She wasn’t Pack.

 _They_ were Pack.

“The mate’s gone,” Ryuukotsu muttered softly. “Kajiki-”

“Fine, fine,” Kajiki snapped, moving back to the cot. She nosed at the puppy. “If Sakumo hates the name…”

Then it would be used by the Pack. Humans could call the puppy whatever they wanted, with their nonsensical conventions. With a family name like ‘Hatake’, most given names were bound to sound stupid.

Rikku waited with bated breath. It didn’t, in the end, matter _what_ the name was. Just that Kajiki gave it. And that Kajiki believed in the puppy.

Rikku believed in the puppy with all his heart, for all the good _that_ would do.

“Kakashi, then,” Kajiki decided. She chuffed. “Do us proud, pup. Fight. _Pull through_.”

x

Sakumo lay on the narrow bed without most of his clothes. Rikku thought it was a crying pity that humans only had a few tufts of hair here and there. If Sakumo had fur, it would have been _beautiful_. Like snow. Only some of Shiryuusu-sama’s close family had fur like that.

Even Rikku had a bit of grey, and he had heard enough quiet remarks about where he got the white.

Sometimes he wondered. About Shiryuusu-sama’s family. About which of them would not have wanted to acknowledge their own pup.

But it didn’t matter now. Rikku had a hunt.

Sakumo’s puppy was sleeping on Sakumo’s chest. He was tiny, and all-white – no more ominous shades of blue. Almost hairless, except for little translucent down on his head. He breathed fine now.

Rikku came as close as he could and examined the baby – that’s what humans called them. _Babies_. The _baby_ had a big head and tiny fingers, curled up into loose fists.

“Come up here,” Sakumo said softly. He had one of his forearms under his head, so he could comfortably watch his son. He moved his free arm to make a little space by his side.

Rikku wanted to come up there. But he didn’t want to wake up the pup. And speaking – speaking was hard. Speaking _quietly_ was impossible for him yet.

He tried, though, because Sakumo was patiently waiting for a response.

“Thought we werrre not arrrowed.”

Sakumo patted the mattress. “The others are too big. But you’ll fit fine. Hop up, Rikku.”

Rikku obeyed, fitting himself onto the narrow strip of mattress along Sakumo’s body.

Sakumo and his mate had had a bigger bed, in another room. The mate had put her foot down about sharing her sleeping space with ninken, so Sakumo had sometimes stayed the night here, in what he called ‘the den’. There had not been a bed here, then – just tatami and blankets.

The bed came after Sakumo’s mate died and the _baby_ survived.

“Why he is not warrrking?” Rikku asked.

Sakumo’s thumb stroked the back of Rikku’s head. “Humans grow slower than dogs. It will take him months to start crawling, and then more months to manage to stand on two legs.”

Rikku nodded. Standing on two legs was hard. He still had to brace himself against something to manage.

“Strrrong puppy,” he mumbled, hoping that he was right.

“Yes,” Sakumo agreed. “Yes, he is. They told me – the iryounin, at the Hospital – they told me he’s a miracle child. That nobody believed he’d live-”

“I berrriewed!” Rikku protested, and then buried his face in between Sakumo’s chest and the mattress, embarrassed.

“Thank you, then.” The air smelled salty with tears. Sakumo’s hand tightened in Rikku’s fur. “Thank you, Rikku.”


	2. With the Wind

Rikku preferred to spend time on his own, but even so he wasn’t entirely deaf to rumours.

He knew Pakkun had accepted a summoner months ago. He had expected – hoped, perhaps? or dreaded? – that Pakkun would seek him out to talk. But that was _months ago_ , and Rikku had since come to accept that it would not happen.

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps there was another summoner, not Sakumo’s pup.

Or Sakumo’s pup wanted nothing to do with the hunt that had failed its leader.

“ _I thought you didn’t want to partner a human_ ,” Rikku said after a while of silence.

It was an inane statement, and Rikku knew it. Pakkun had bad past experience with humans and their cruelty, but that was before. Before he was trained, and knew how to bite back. Maybe this was a chance for him to get some justice-

“I didn’t,” Pakkun grumbled, sneaking a strip of Rikku’s duck from between Rikku’s paws.

Rikku let him. This was familiar, and a little nostalgic. He used to feed Pakkun during the language lessons, years ago. When they were both younger, and there was a lot more hope for the future. Pakkun was still tiny, and still grumbled a lot, but there was a new determination in him, whereas Rikku was resigned to joining the rangers in the outer regions and going out unremembered.

“I just met…” Pakkun hesitated. “…someone.”

Rikku rolled his eyes. As though that was not a clear enough indication of who that someone was. _Someone_ whom Rikku had helped teach crawl, and then walk. _Someone_ who had stood on two legs for the first time pulling himself up by Rikku’s fur. Sa-

He shuddered. And took a deep breath.

 _Sakumo_. Rikku could think the name. He could.

Sakumo eventually came to trust Rikku enough to take him along on missions (even if not enough to rely on him when things went bad), so he didn’t spend so much time with older _someone_. Not to mention the fierce, aggressive strain of _someone’s_ independence, which had grown into resentment of any and all help.

Why did love turn into pain? Why did it linger so?

Pakkun stared up at him with a guilty expression. “Rikku-”

Rikku huffed and turned down to the rest of his duck. “ _You had the right idea. I am never going to do it again_.”

x

“You could have said no,” said Ya, looking at the destruction Rikku had wrought in his anger. It was – had been – just a copse of trees. No one was hurt. The accusation was wholly undeserved.

Ya and Rikku barely even knew one another; if Ya were interested in friendship, he would have led with a _thank you_ rather than a pathetic attempt at intimidation.

“ _I tried_.” Rikku _had_ tried to say no. The word had stuck in his throat, like human words used to before Pakkun and then Sakumo showed him the tricks to speaking.

All he could think about when he landed in that tiny human flat and inhaled was that there was another orphaned child, abandoned by the other humans, taken care of by ninken. History repeating itself.

And Pakkun timed it so well that Rikku was still breathing through the shock and pain when the child walked to the door in a cloud of terror-and-grilled-chicken smell.

“Kana is grateful,” Ya added like an afterthought.

“ _Yes_ ,” Rikku agreed. Kana had said so. Kana had gone to her father to explain the situation and asked for his support with this experiment. Children did not have hunts. _Ninja_ had hunts.

Pakkun’s human had been official ninja before he had tried summoning for the first time.

Shiryuusu-sama might have played the impartial arbiter well, but when his favourite daughter came to him with a plea, he caved.

Ya sighed. “I would just as well have him train in something else. Carpentry, or even gardening – Naruto-kun has a green thumb. He could be employed by the Clans to design and tend to their gardens if he worked on it… but there’s no changing his mind.”

Rikku huffed. Aristocracy. So used to having all the options available to them. How could Ya understand that some of them had to fight tooth and claw to get even that one chance?

Ya sighed again. He lowered his head. “ _Please take good care of my heart-son, Rikku-san_.”

“ _He is my heart-brother now_ ,” Rikku replied.

And he heard the terrifying truth in it. He would defend and protect Naruto to his last breath, to the last pulse of his old, scarred heart.

This was not what he wanted.

“You are family now,” Ya replied. “You are always welcome in our home and to our meals. Bring us your concerns…” He lost a little of his poise and showed something akin to a sense of humour. “I’ve found it pays to have Kana do the solving. Sometimes problems just _disappear_.”

Oh, so he was at least aware of the advantages he had mated into.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Rikku replied by rote. That was what you said when an aristocrat shoved their grace at your face.

“Ah, I mucked this up, didn’t I?” Ya muttered self-deprecatingly. “Well, please give us a chance to be your friends, Rikku-san. We would very much like that.”

Rikku doubted it.

But Ya simply nodded, turned away and walked off, sparing Rikku the obligation to answer.

Left alone, Rikku found that his anger had not quite run its course yet, but the initial desire to tighten his teeth around something’s throat and bite down had abated. He could ask questions now.

Pakkun was waiting for him at the fountain. His scent pile (guilt, defensive anger, trepidation, _hope_ ) had discouraged the rest of the Pack from talking to him. It would have discouraged Rikku, too, under different circumstances. Today, though…

The identity of Pakkun’s human partner had never been a secret. And for years – for more than a decade – Rikku and Pakkun managed to remain friends, while avoiding the topic entirely. Could they go on like that?

Mostly Rikku wanted to know one thing. He drank his fill from the fountain, viciously satisfied by Pakkun’s mounting tension, and then asked: “Why?”

Pakkun rose on all four. He came up to Rikku’s knee. The difference in size had never intimidated him – he used to regard it as a challenge, and now it was just a non-issue to him. “I once swore I wouldn’t go near humans again. All it took to change my mind was one child that needed me.”

That wasn’t entirely right. Pakkun had skipped over the years spent in the safety of Pack, learning to stand on his own four paws, learning to bite back against predators so much bigger, stronger and more versatile with weapons than him. But perhaps he didn’t remember those intervening years all that intensely when compared with the soul-deep contentment of having a hunt.

“I took a gamble that you might feel the same,” Pakkun added after a pause.

“Why not… before?” Why didn’t Pakkun ever so much as mention _his_ hunt?

“We spoke. Do you remember? You knew that I signed the contract with Kakashi, and you didn’t ask after him. He didn’t ask either.”

That was… such a kind wording. Rikku didn’t need to know whether Pakkun’s human had asked after the huntmates but not after him, or whether Pakkun’s human had not been interested in the fate of his Father’s hunt at all. Just like Pakkun obviously didn’t need to know that of Sakumo’s entire hunt, Rikku had been the closest to Sakumo’s pup. Not just in age. In everything.

Rikku had, once, a very long time ago, guiltily entertained the notion of asking Sakumo if he could leave his hunt, and become the pup’s partner. He had never quite gathered up the courage… until it was too late.

Pakkun snuffled. “I know how much things like that hurt. I wasn’t going to force anything on either of you.”

Not even a decision. Not even a right to a decision. Not even a _second Inari-damned chance_.

“Right.” Rikku resented that Pakkun took his choice from him, but he wasn’t so angry that he couldn’t see Pakkun’s earnest intention to minimise the pain for all involved, or how much thought went into his actions. Pakkun must have agonised over both dilemmas: whether to mention Pakkun’s hunt back then and whether to mention Naruto’s now.

Pakkun swallowed a whine. “Rikku…”

“No, you’re right,” Rikku assured him. He briefly closed his eyes. This was his first, oldest friend, a ninken who earned Rikku’s respect when they were both pups, and never lost it. “I don’t know how I would have reacted. I can’t imagine it would have been gracious at all.”

He didn’t feel he had been too gracious today, either. But Naruto seemed like he could roll with it. Like a ninken pup: stumbling over his own paws, sometimes falling on his face, but shaking it all off, and never, ever ceasing to yip.

Rikku found the last vestiges of his anger dissipating, and suddenly understood Pakkun all too well. The enormity of the responsibility he accepted shook him, but he found his new equilibrium, and it promised its share of joy – joy that he had given up on experiencing ever again.

He saw himself as Naruto, and Naruto as himself. A puppy, only just learning to be a fighter, taken under the guidance of an experienced warrior.

He could only hope that he would be as good a mentor to Naruto as Sakumo had once been to him.

x

Rikku knew it was coming. He was prepared for it.

He was _not_ prepared enough.

He fought by Naruto’s side – he could do that by rote, and the enemy were a bit on the inept side – he weathered by Naruto’s side the accusation of monstrousness – coming from a self-absorbed little girl he couldn’t even feel the offence – and he proudly stood guard while Naruto made his first kill.

Fast. Efficient. Definitive.

Rikku was proud of him, and he was sure that the rest of the hunt would be, also. The rest of Naruto’s family, too. The entire Pack, should they hear of it. And Naruto stood still, calm, with one leg spattered red from the enemy’s open jugular, and a blood-stained kunai in his hand. His first mission outside the village, his first battle with enemy ninja – and he did not even hesitate.

“Good job, partner,” Rikku said quietly, looking from the dead body to Naruto. “If you need to talk about it… call me.”

He unsummoned himself.

He knew he should not have left Naruto alone – not now. It might hit him in a minute, or in an hour, but taking your first life was never a non-issue. Not unless there was something else very wrong with you. And Naruto especially was an empathetic boy. He would not deal well with the realisation that he was a killer-

But Rikku wasn’t dealing well with seeing Pakkun’s human. Naruto’s jounin sensei.

All the expectation, all the forewarning had come to nothing. Rikku had spotted Pakkun’s human, and immediately chose to forget his presence (aided by the heavy-handed genjutsu) so he could focus on fighting.

And then, when it was over, Pakkun’s human’s eyes slid over right over Rikku, with no hint of recognition, not even in his scent. After all, it had been such a long time. And how much would a grown human recall of when he was six years old?

“It’s gone to shit already?” asked Juuji, anxiously waiting in front of Rikku’s house. “They’re barely three hours out of the village!”

“Naruto has done well,” Rikku assured him, passing him by to sprawl on his mat and try to pretend the world didn’t exist for a while.

Juuji, however, was too much like Naruto to let Rikku be until he had his answers. “Of course he’s _done well_. He’s my brother. He’s as good as we could make him, and that’s _damn_ good-”

“Juuji,” Rikku cut in.

“-but that doesn’t mean that we should leave him alone in the field with people that don’t give a damn about him – I’m not sure about the Lamppost, but the Flea sure isn’t going to-”

“Juuji!” Rikku barked.

Juuji’s maw snapped shut. He looked hurt for about a second; then he saw Rikku’s face and balked.

Rikku curled up on the mat, facing away from his young huntmate. He just needed a little while to recover from the disappointment.

Juuji whined and softly headbutted Rikku’s spine. “If he calls, I’ll take care of it. Just… feel better, Rikku.”

As Rikku listened to Juuji’s retreating steps, he resolved to take on the challenge. He _had to_ be able to speak to the leader of Naruto’s team – what if there was an emergency? Being the co-leader of Naruto’s hunt meant responsibility. Responsibility which Rikku knowingly, willingly accepted.

He promised himself that the next time an opportunity would come, he would speak to Naruto’s jounin sensei as if there had been no history between them at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: minor character death, angst, implied child abandonment, implied animal abuse


End file.
